Murder Takes the High Road(15)

When our meals came, that bee in Rose’s bonnet began to buzz again.

“You know,” she said, wagging a French fry for emphasis, “they made everyone on the last trip sign a nondisclosure.”

There were a few polite murmurs, but Laurel said, “I don’t think that means anything. We had to sign a nondisclosure when we booked the tour.”

“But doesn’t that seem suspicious?”

“No,” said Wally. “It probably has to do with protecting Vanessa. Her intellectual properties, that is. She’s going to talk about writing and maybe what she’s working on now. It makes sense she wouldn’t want all of us to go blabbing all her secrets on social media when we get home.”

“True,” his wife said.

Rose looked unconvinced.

I studied her. “Do you really think someone was murdered on the last tour?”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”

Not in so many words, no. But she seemed to be hinting at it. Or maybe she was just a natural-born gossip girl, and when her love of speculating about other people intersected with her love of mysteries, she wound up seeing crime everywhere. She was probably the talk of her Neighborhood Watch—or the commander.

“If there had been a murder, we’d have certainly heard about it,” Wally said. “It would have been all over the news.”

“Maybe,” I said.

Ben eyed me curiously. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to believe there was a murder?”

“No. Well, who knows? But I do think it’s possible that if something had happened, it could have successfully been hushed up. That’s all. It would make sense to hush it up. Anything else would be terrible for business.”

Or you would think. Certainly, with the normal tourist, it would be bad for business.

“Murder will out,” he said.

I raised my mug in a half salute. “Probably.”

*

Our allocated ninety minutes for lunch passed very quickly—and pleasantly. A lot more pleasantly than being the victim of a hit-and-run would have been, for sure. Before long we were marching back to the bus.

When we boarded, I couldn’t help looking to see if Trevor and Vance were already back. There was no sign of either of them, but John dropped into the seat beside me.

“Hey.”

I nodded politely.

His eyes were an unusual shade of brown. Almost pecan in color. I hadn’t noticed before. His nose was straight and his jaw purposeful, his mouth firm and nicely shaped. Yep, he was definitely attractive, and although I’d been thinking I was past any interest in that kind of thing, I couldn’t help feeling an unexpected jolt of awareness.

“Did Stafford really push you into the path of a speeding car?” John sounded more interested than concerned.

I groaned softly. “Oh. God.” That explained all the curious looks I was getting from those who hadn’t been in the café with us earlier.

John was still watching me, waiting for an answer. Maybe, being my roommate, he was worried about the possibility of getting caught in crossfire.

I began, “They brush—”

He interrupted, “They? They who?”

“Trevor and Vance were walking behind the rest of us, and I guess we weren’t moving fast enough because they sort of pushed through, and Vance knocked me into the road.”

“In front of an oncoming car?”

I winced. “It wasn’t... I don’t think it was deliberate, if that’s what people are saying. I think I was in the way, and they’re—”

“They again,” John said.

I scowled, but he had a point. “Trevor and Vance are already annoyed with me. That’s all. I don’t think it was something they—he—planned. I was just...”

“In the way,” John finished for me. “Nice. I deduct you and Temple used to be together.”

“Deduce,” I said.

“What?”

“You deduce.” I massaged my forehead. “Sorry. That was rude.”

“I’d already deduced you and Temple used to be together.” He repeated it matter-of-factly, so at least it was reassuring to know I was not sharing a room with an undeclared homophobe. You never could tell. Prejudice lurked in some unexpected hearts.

“For about three years. We’ve been split up ten months.”

He looked taken aback. “You booked this trip after you split up?”

“God no. Are you kidding? I booked this trip nearly two years ago when there was still a waiting list. I didn’t, er, foresee the future.”

He thought this over. “I think in your place, I’d have cancelled. You must really love Vanessa Rayburn.”

“I do. But if I’d had any idea what this was going to be like... Anyway, I really hope people don’t try to turn this into some Big Thing, because it wasn’t like that. Vance bumped against me. It was a split second and it could have been any one of us.” I could hear the earnestness in my tone and I knew I was overexplaining.

John knew it too because he laughed.

“I don’t see the humor.”

“You’re embarrassed at the idea someone tried to kill you. I think that’s funny. Most people would be mad. Or scared. You find it socially awkward.”